Chicken Rice
by Triple Deluxe
Summary: There comes a time in every Avatar's life when he must make universe-changing decisions. In the case of Byleth Eisner, he must decide how he will save the world somehow, how badly he will lick the bare feet of the prepubescent Goddess shoved into his head, and which regional house he shall select to lead before an inevitable war breaks out all across Fódlan. But what if he didn't?
1. Imaginary Twat

"Gah…" For being asleep within this stupid dream again, he was _very_ groggy right about now. Probably from the headache the last bounty had caused, rushing them deep into the forest and all, but should sleep not be where he _rests_? It was too early for this shit…

As he stood up in his standard gear he normally wore during the day _once again_, coated through darkness with a tall altar before him- _Wait a minute_. Didn't the war on the wet plains come first? Why was he here already?

Regardless, the girl upon the emerald throne once again awoke from her own slumber the moment he laid his eyes on her. It was clockwork at this point, and he didn't like it one bit.

She lazily rubbed her eyes with her left fist. Check.

She gave a totally-not-subtle yawn with her head thrown back. Check.

As soon as she opened her eyes again, she immediately noticed him before the stairs. Check.

Was it wrong he didn't want a single one of those things to happen?

"Oh my," Oh boy, here we go. "What could have brought you here?"

Normally, he'd simply let this play out as it usually did; she wants to know who he is, why he's here, only to fall asleep and mention some weird stuff about it being 'about time to begin'. A couple changes here and there, but it played out basically the same _every time_.

You know what? No.

"Beer, fatigue, _sheer fucking will_."

The girl raised an eyebrow at his answer, almost shocked. Or was she shocked? Don't know, don't care.

"In that order?" The girl wondered.

All he could do was sigh. "I don't even know anymore." He confessed.

The girl yawned again. "You seem to be just as out of it as I."

He responded with a small nod.

The girl leaned forward from what he assumed to be an incredibly uncomfortable seat. "What even are you, anyway?"

He decided to be honest with her as he could barely manage. "A demon."

She leered in response. "Do not try to jest me, _mortal_."

After slowly blinking for a few seconds, he realised his choice of words. "Oh, sorry sorry sorry," He muttered. "_Ashen_ Demon." When his correction didn't quench her glare, he scratched his head. "Are we not discussing titles?"

All she did was quietly groan and rub her face into her open palms. "Why would he be called Ashen Demon?" She muttered to herself. "What kind of a title is that?!" She quickly recomposed herself and turned back towards the strange man before her. "Either way, a mortal like yourself has a name, yes? Let's hear it."

He sighed again, as if he'd heard this one before. "Byleth." He was fairly certain she already knew that.

She was thrown for a loop there. 'Byleth?' She thought. 'As in, alternate to _Beleth_, a ruler of hell itself?'

She leaned back forward. "Is that truly your given name?" She accused, unconvinced he simply tried to play on with the whole demon thing.

"You're not the first to ask me that," Byleth affirmed. "I'm certain Jeralt regrets naming me that by now." He didn't speak that last bit too loudly.

The girl shrugged. "It matters not, Byleth," She admitted. "A name is but a calling to yourself, nothing more." She suddenly leaned forward. "Oh, while we're on the topic of your origins, you must possess a date of birth too, yes? By which day under which moon were you born?"

Okay, that one Byleth knew like the back of his hand. "The twentieth of the Horsebow Moon." He answered swift as the wind. It was the one part of his origin he even remembered, after all.

Once again, the girl was in shock. "Truly?!" She cried. "Not only do you have the given name of a general of hell's depths, but we even share the same date of birth!" She laid back in her...rather uncomfortable looking throne. "Surprise after surprise..."

Byleth was confused. Did...did she really nor remember the last time she said that? Or the time before that…? Was this some broken sword that kept slipping from its sheath, no matter how many times you throw it into the fiery forge? Was she trying to mock him?! Did she have any clue whatsoever as to how many times- oh no. Oh _hell no_, she is _not_ going back to sleep after all that _**again**_.

"How *_YAWN_* familiar…" She muttered, sleep enveloping her as the darkness had already done. "Like this has...happened before…" Another yawn.

Byleth was internally _seething_. '_**YOU THINK!?**_" His head hollered, tongue almost collaborating.

"It is almost time to...begin…" And with that, the girl was asleep. And no doubt, he'd wake up in a couple minutes from his father as the two marched on to whatever job they'd gotten. AGAIN.

This was what, the four hundredth time now? He wakes up in some altar of sorts to some barefoot midget sitting atop it, got asked for his life story, only for her to fall asleep before he could even tell her he had nothing to talk about!

He really needed to get a better sword. Or maybe the sheath was loose? Yeah, he probably needed to clear his head a bit more.

"Hey. Time to wake up." There it is.


	2. Dawn Cracking

DATE: FEBRUARY 28th, 2020 (28/2/20)

* * *

**Sorry about the holdup, mate. I'm taking part in a TAFE course now, so I have to manage my time and efforts carefully. Either way, here's the two waking up. No prologue battle yet because I'm just that awful a person.**

(Guest) [CHP1, FEB 24]

**Sorry mate, this isn't New Game +. It's even worse. Though I doubt my attention to the story will last that long, but if I do make it I might consider making a New Game + based off of Chicken Rice. That'd be a Millenia away, however. Also, it's not any of the given routes. It's an original one.**

Unzealots [CHP1, FEB 25]

**As I said to the Guest, no NG+. And yeah, not wanting to make people feel bad will do some crazy shit. It reminds me of when in _Future Diary_ where the phone says Amano walks past the door but he instead says fuck it and opens the door, causing both the universe and the game alike to go fuckay. ****And the rice will come in due time, I assure you.**

Meteorthunder3 [CHP1, FEB 25]

**Always expect the unexpected, my friend. If you expect something likely expected, you've come to the wrong author. My irl nature is hard wired to be anti-meta anyway, so it helps my writing style and stories a lot. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy your stay.**

* * *

As Byleth groaned and simultaneously yawned to the point of it sounding not too unlike a roar in pain, Jeralt stepped back to give his son some stretching room. Early leave or not, he deserved some space to get his muscles in order at least.

When Byleth had stopped stretching, as had the noises vanished, Jeralt decided to greet his son. "Morning, kid."

Byleth gave a small wave as he stood up. "Morning." He muttered before stretching his back into an arc so deep it could win Ordelia's local limbo contest. Wait, was the human body even able to make those kinds of sounds?

From the stiff body his son had clearly woken up with, it didn't take much for Jeralt to figure out last night's events. "You have that dream again?" He wondered.

After the cracking and squeals of bone ligaments ceased, Byleth turned to the Blade Breaker. He nodded. "Only the girl for some reason."

Jeralt curled his fingers under his chin, pondering. "That's odd," He commented. "Don't you usually dream of the battle on the Tailtean Plains first?"

Byleth nodded. "'S what I thought."

Jeralt shook it off. "Anyway, not what I came here for. Besides, idle thoughts could kill you, let alone in the heat of battle." He cleared his throat. "I came here to get you up and going for our next job, taking place in the Kingdom." He nicked his head back north-west to emphasise his point. "It'll be a long trip from here to get to our client, let alone our target destination, so like I said the other day, the sooner we move out, the better."

Byleth was aware of the job they'd been given by one of the minor nobles in the Kingdom, having been sent a request to Jeralt a few days ago. He explained it to everyone yesterday, as well as a quick warning to himself the day before. He'd broken dawn so many times it should be paralysed from the horizon down by now, and he'd had his fair share of 36-hour days before. He enjoyed sleep, but his body was naturally insomniac due to his work ethic.

He nodded at his father's words. "Naturally."

Jeralt was about to compliment his kid on his tenacity and willingness to fully commit, but he caught wind of some commotion outside. He groaned. "As great as it is that everyone else followed suit, that's way too much noise this time of morning..."

"Ironic." Byleth remarked, earning a light arm punch from his father.

The Blade Breaker sighed. "I'm getting too old for this shit."

At the sound of the door opening, the two quickly tensed up and snapped their eyes to whatever found their way in.

"Captain," It was one of their mercenaries. "Sorry to barge, but we've got some visitors outside; they seem to want help with something."

The two Eisners looked towards each other. They were both thinking the same thing: maybe themselves, sure, but who else could be awake this damn early?

As they got outside, they saw three rather young adults, maybe even late teenagers. They each wore some sort of black uniform with gold trimmings around the upper chest, with some personal differences between each of them, including a cape hanging from their left shoulders with varying colours.

The one on the left was a man with messy flat blonde hair and blue highlights, as well as iron guards on his wrists and lower legs. There was a lance being held in his right hand hilt down.

The one in the middle was a woman with long white hair and red highlights, which some may draw attention to the unnaturally shiny stockings. Were they made of rubber or something? She also grasped an axe with a rather sharp accent downward, almost melted, from behind her.

The guy on the right had similarly messy hair, though most of it seemed to go upward somehow (with the exception of a tiny braid dangling from the right side of his face). His skin was slightly darker to everyone else's, not too unlike an Almyran's. His own uniform was mostly a cloak that draped to his kneecaps, but what _was_ visible had rather bright yellow highlights. He held a bow in his left hand, and just from the way it loosely hung from his grip you could tell he had a personality that downright hollered 'I don't give a merry flying fuck'.

The blonde man took a quick bow. "Apologies for the intrusion sir, but we wouldn't have called for help were the situation not dire."

As Byleth just stared at them, Jeralt was slightly confused. "It's nearly the crack of dawn; what do you kids want at this time of morning?"

The girl stood forward slightly to bring the attention to herself. "While the three of us were at rest within our camp, we were being chased after by a group of bandits."

Jeralt was rewarded with further confusion. "Bandits? Here?"

The yellow fellow stretched his arms over his head. "Yep," He groaned as he stretched his arms and back. "Our lives and gold are both being hunted right now, so if you could lend us a hand that'd _really_ make our day."

As his father mentioned some stuff about composure and uniforms, Byleth turned to look at each of the three kids before him. He noticed something about each of them; the blonde guy seemed to have a sincere, almost chivalrous disposition, but there was something...off about him. Something dark; the girl was rather refined, but he felt like she was evaluating Jeralt constantly, even himself at times, and he was often disregarded in favour of his father; the dark skinned guy had a smile that carried a metric shitton of charisma behind it to where he himself almost smiled. So why were his eyes so...hollow?

One of Jeralt's mercenaries suddenly came running towards the group. "We got a problem, boss," He announced. "Bandits just came running through, holy hell there's a lot of them."

Jeralt sighed. "Gotta be pretty persistent to chase you three all the way to Remire of all places." He turned to his son. "I'll go evacuate every villager I can from wherever the bandits are going, you and these kids go find them and stop them in their tracks."

The dark skinned guy's smile rose, now actually gripping his bow properly. "So we're fighting them then?" He asked.

Jeralt nodded. "Naturally," He replied. "Intentional or not, you three dragged them into this peaceful village. The least you could do is pull your weight and fend them off."

The girl started smiling now. "Don't worry," She assured, bringing her axe over her shoulder. "We plan to."

The blonde man said nothing, though he slammed the end of his lance down and caught it in midair, bringing it into both hands with a smile of his own. Seemed the three were eager to do battle.

On the contrary, he'd have to make sure none of them died under his eye...great. This is why he left the management shit for the mercenaries to Jeralt; he'd rather fight with no worries of passerby than manage a group simultaneously.

Fortunately, he had a sharp tactical mind that had helped the mercenary group out a fair few times. Unfortunately, he had a sharp tactical mind that had helped the mercenary group out a fair few times. Why couldn't he just not care and barge in no holds barred? What's wrong with a one man band against a seven nation army? He'd pulled it off before…

Jeralt turned to the mercenary that had alerted them. "Where were the bandits last seen?" He demanded.

The mercenary in question jabbed a thumb behind him to a large wooden tower, visible even through the thick trees containing Remire Village. "They were spotted out in the centre clearing, near the watchtower."

Jeralt nodded, turning to his son. "Ready, kid?" He asked, to which Byleth gave a simple nod. With that, he walked over to his horse currently stationed in the stable near the two's house. After a minute, the three kids talked about strategies during this, he rode out on his horse, Daemon, towards the west to find any villagers in need of help.

Byleth pulled his iron sword out of its sheath, running towards the clearing mentioned prior. "Come." He demanded as he passed the three kids. The three nodded to one another and quickly followed after the Ashen Demon.


	3. Skirmish at Dawn

DATE: APRIL 1st, 2020 (1/4/20)

* * *

**Skdaa Skdeen; everyone's trapped due to quarantine. Fortunately for me, that means I have an excuse to focus my energy into writing, _Three Houses_, and _Animal Crossing: New Horizons_ because holy shit people weren't lying when they said Animal Crossing merges into a part of your daily routine from day 1.**

**I split off a couple hundred words here because I figured I might as well get something out sooner rather than later. It's still miserably short, but what can you do?**

Gongenzaka [CHP2, FEB 29]

**Believe me, the whole process has been making me giddy ever since I started writing chapter 2, let alone my ideas for Part II. It's gonna be great.**

**However, I apologise as I don't think I'd be able to do that. While I have a good idea for Byleth, and _Awakening_ was indeed my first dip in the pond, I feel as if my writing style for Robin has already been done in the form of _Invisible Ties_ by **metallover**. It's some great shit, and I feel as if me doing anything else would be redundant. I also don't know jack shit about _if/Fates_ beyond funny lavender MILF, F!Corrin's battle cries being literal moans, and as much as I hate her far more so, that doesn't make M!Corrin any less of the biggest bitch I've ever seen. Still prefer him in just about every way, though.**

* * *

By the time the three had caught up with the Ashen Demon, they noticed he was hiding behind a tree, slowly peeking over.

"Damn, you're a fast one, huh-"

Claude was quickly shut up with Byleth raising two fingers in front of him. The former got the message, quickly nodding. Immediately, Byleth followed his fingers down to each of the three lords individually before swiping them towards three other trees, not a letter spoken.

Claude nodded, immediately following to the furthest tree quietly as the other two followed suit.

The three slowly peeled beyond their own trees to see what Byleth had meant. There were two a couple dozen bandits inspecting the nearby area, likely looking for the three of them. They quickly saw the four near the small creek's bridge that Byleth was hiding from, each wielding a sword.

The three lords turned to Byleth who had pointed to Claude with two fingers, the latter giving a thumbs up. Byleth immediately enclosed his left hand before popping out his thumb and pinky on opposite ends, following with his right index finger being placed in front of the fist before being pulled back slightly.

Claude's smile grew slightly as he flicked his left hand with two fingers to the side, a wink joining, before proceeding to peer to the side of his tree to the thieves that had invaded the village.

With a fancy spin of his arrow, he quickly nocked and fired towards the bandit closest to the bridge, straight to the head.

The moment the arrow made contact, the now dead thief falling into the creek below, the rest of them quickly turned to see what had killed their accomplice. The moment they turned towards a group of trees near an inn, they saw a tan man coated in black and yellow with a bow and an arrow giving them a cheeky grin and a wave with his fingers before popping back to behind the tree.

The three cast aside everything else and charged straight towards the tree to kill whoever had killed their comrade. Poor bastards.

Byleth turned to the group again, joining his index and middle fingers as Claude had before. He pointed to the bandits, then towards the ground right in between Byleth, Dimitri and Edelgard, then to the two in question before sliding his index finger across his neck.

The prince and princess nodded in acknowledgement, their weapons in hand.

The moment the bandits came past the trees, they looked around to find...nobody. Despite clearly seeing a guy with a bow after their fellow thief died from an arrow no more than thirty seconds ago, not a single person was here.

Hearing footsteps from behind the middle thief turned around-

"GAH!"

Only to have himself being cut deeply across the chest from a guy with murky blue hair with not an emotion on his face. Wait...that description sounded familiar…

"You son of a bitch!" The thief cried, slouched over with a hand on his wound.

Byleth didn't even bat a single eyelash. "Do not scream," He _chastised_ of all things. "It will only make your wound worse." He sounded _bored_. Who the hell was this guy?!

Pissed off, the thief tried charging again, though his movements were a lot more rough and forced then before.

Byleth shook his head softly, tossing his sword into the air. He avoided the bandit's sloppy sword swipe before elbowing the man into his wound, making him yelp as more blood came through both his chest and mouth. Byleth quickly followed with a left haymaker to the nose, a slap across his face with his right hand before backhanding the opposite way, then kicking him again into his wound, forcing a roar from the man as he fell onto the dirt below.

Without even looking, Byleth caught his sword with an outstretched right arm and proceeded to plunge it right into the man's heart, the latter crying out to the heavens. The last thing the thief saw was Byleth's face that hadn't shifted an inch since assaulting him, shadowing over the moonlight behind the demon.

Having noted the light had left the thief's eyes as usual, Byleth drew his iron sword back out, wiping off the blood and guts onto the small rag he kept on his person with a single wipe. He turned to see that the other two lords had finished off their opponents. He noted that despite the blonde man's poise, his thief's corpse was a lot rougher than the snowy woman.

Claude laughed from his position in front of the tree. Well, behind from the current point of view. "Well damn, you are good at this!" He gave Byleth a light punch to the shoulder, where the latter's only reaction was the light ching in his shoulder's metal plating.

"Rather brutal, but incredibly well done." Edelgard nodded, joining the two.

Dimitri followed suit. "What's our next move, Mr.…" The Faerghan trailed off.

"Byleth." Was the quiet reply. He probably shouldn't've told them, but they would've pried it out of him after the battle anyway.

"Hm…" Edelgard was deep in thought about the name. "Byleth, Byleth…" She could've sworn she'd heard that name from somewhere... Wait. The old man from earlier called him 'kid' earlier. Could…?

"By chance, would you happen to be-" She cut herself off when she realised he was no longer in front of her, rather moving ahead toward the central watchtower with Claude following not too far behind.

She turned to Dimitri, who seemed just as lightly shook as her, before turning back and proceeding to make chase after the two.

* * *

"Damn, Byleth, you scary." Claude noted as the two snuck to the base of the watchtower.

He was met with a wind-quenching slap and two fingers stretched vertically to his lips.

"Right, right, be quiet." He muttered as he tried soothing the red mark on his face.

With the rowdy lord silenced as best he could manage for the next few seconds before inevitability broke down the door again, Byleth hauled himself over the stone wall encircling the large wooden lookout as quietly as he could, masking any grunts under harsh breaths from his nose, Claude following his lead.

When he heard two more pairs of footsteps, Byleth quickly drew his sword, only to find one silver princess and one golden prince, both of which have seemed to simply walk through the front entrance.

Dimitri's eyebrows went up. "Uh, Mr. Byleth, we're on your side." He explained.

Byleth shrugged as he lowered his sword to his hip. "One can never be too careful when lives are at stake." With that, the mercenary proceeded forward to the opposite wall, at the ready to attack the thieves.

Edelgard turned to the sovereign duke. "And as for _you_-"

"If you're going to critique me on going on ahead with this guy just because his style is like mine but more grotesque, _maybe_ if you two weren't lagging behind like a drunk wyvern, that wouldn't be a problem, now would it, your highness?"

Edelgard was visibly shaking. "_Claude_-"

"He's right, you know." Dimitri cut in. "We need to focus on our goal here. Keep our head in the game, yes?"

Claude chuckled. "That's the spirit, Dimitri!"

Dimitri sighed. "That's good. I don't know many such sayings, so I'm glad to have at least one right."

"Bah, you'll learn as time passes. Better late than never, yeah?"

"I suppose."

The whole interaction before her caused Edelgard to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I'm surrounded by idiots…" Nonetheless, they had a point; focus on protecting the village. But could they not at least save the banter until _after_ said moment?

By the time the three had caught up to Byleth, they'd thought that he might need _some_ help for a dozen armed thieves, but by the time they'd gotten to him, either they were weak as piss, or Byleth was impressively strong. Like, they could tell beforehand that he was skilled, but the fact that he'd _slaughtered_ them all beforehand without so much as blinking before they even caught up to him was a testament to how strong this man was.

Surrounding Byleth were the corpses of ten men and two women who attacked him the moment he charged in, only for each and every one of them to be effortlessly dealt with. The mercenary was inspecting the dropped weapons on the ground, mostly swords with the odd axe and a single bow.

When he noticed the three lords from before approaching him, cutting off a "How the f-" from Claude, he handed the tanned lord the bow he was holding, crafted from steel rather than the iron he currently wielded. "Here."

Claude raised an eyebrow. "I appreciate the thought, B, but I'm not taking a dead man's bow."

After registering his answer for a few seconds, Byleth let out an 'ah' before grabbing his handy rag and wiping the blood clean from the steel bow, handing it out again. "There: it's clean."

Claude sighed. "Look, B, that's not-" He was cut off when the bow was shoved into his chest anyway, his body instinctively grabbing the weapon. "...what I…"

"Time is of the essence." Byleth shot back, rushing back into the boundary for the watchtower.


	4. Anger Mismanagement

DATE: APRIL 24th, 2020 (24/4/20)

* * *

**Now see, I _WOULD_ apologise for the short chapters in this story so far, but I both can't be bothered to be sorry about it, and I want to get out some kind of content during this shitstorm of a crisis. If I weren't such a slut for video games, I'd be going insane right about now.**

* * *

To be blunt, Kostas was _not_ having a good day.

First, this creepy midget clad in red and black with the most disgusting porcelain mask he'd ever seen comes by and demands he and his group hunt down not just any three nobles, but the three literal _powers that be_ within a few years time for each and every faction of Fódlan. _Then_ the three find out before they even get there and run off. It was a good thing the Adrestian and Faerghan chased after the Sovereign Duke, otherwise they'd be on a wild goose chase separated like snowflakes in a blizzard in the middle of Seiros knows where. And to top it all off, _now_ there was a report of fucking _mercs_ in the area, of which would gladly gun for the price on his terribly-groomed head.

The worst part was that they were last seen in _this very clearing_.

"What the fuck did I do to deserve this?!" He cried, axe drooping to the side in defeat.

One of the thieves near him raised her eyebrow. "We're _thieves_, boss. It's practically karma-"

"_NOT_ MY POINT!" Kostas roared back despite that being exactly his point. "Look, we ain't got much of a choice here. We have no idea who that Flame Emperor fuck is, what he wants, or _why_ he wants us to nab three of Fódlan's political future. Now I may be suicidal, but I ain't _that_ suicidal."

The thief from before crossed her arms, sword hanging over her shoulder. "I mean, being suicidal means 'willing to die', so being a begging chooser about it isn't doing you any fa-"

"GODDESSFUCKINGDAMMIT, WOULD YOU STOP THAT ALREADY!?"

* * *

From the top of the watchtower, Byleth watched the scene with...relative confusion. Was everybody around here comical relief for everyone but themselves? Or were the brigands just eccentric? Even with them being loud enough to hear a couple hundred metres, it was honestly hard to tell at this point.

"What are we dealing with here?" Of all people Byleth knew would be approaching without worry on his own end, it was his father. "Don't seem like much of a threat to anyone on our end."

Byleth turned around to Jeralt. "A loud hypocritical neckbeard with atrocious cavities. Wields axes."

Jeralt heaved a groan out, resting his head on his left arm. "Be more specific, kid…" They fought like, twenty guys like that in the Alliance no more than a month ago.

"I am specifying their appearance and wielded arms, not their identity." Byleth retorted.

Jeralt just shrugged. "Fair enough." A no-name was a no-name, simple as that. "How are the three powers going?"

Byleth took his attention off of the bandit and down to the young lords, all three of which were in his requested position for their next phase of assault. Although being it that they were in the same area, the three _were_ silently bickering amongst one another.

"Competent," Byleth answered. "If not as eccentric as the bandits they're facing."

A small chuckle escaped the Blade Breaker. "Yeah, that'll happen. Been seeing a lot of that recently, huh?"

Byleth turned back around. "I take it the vulnerable were brought to safety?"

Jeralt nodded. "Yeah, we brought the closest villagers to the southern end of Remire. Seeing as their entire band went after those kids at once, they shouldn't be able to get to the defenceless from here."

A nod came from the Ashen Demon. That was good; any possible hostages or victims had been negated. Not only would this allow no restriction in fighting the bandits, but unnecessary lives were no longer at stake here, only the ones who _could_ fight.

Byleth took a peek down, noting that Daemon was peacefully waiting for his jockey alongside other members of the Eisner Sellsword Corps that had followed their boss, the rest keeping an eye on the citizens for any lurkers.

He turned back to his old man. "Shall we finish the counterassault?"

Jeralt nodded. "I'll keep an eye on the boys; probably getting impatient by now. You watch the other three."

The exchange complete, the two walked to the ladder up the tower, Byleth grasping the left rail and sliding down, right hand grasping his sword at the ready. Barely above him, Jeralt was following suit on the right side, left hand grasping the lance hitched to his back.

Byleth quickly jumped from the ladder onto the ground, moving northwest to the three lords. Noting his rider coming down the ladder, Daemon ran towards the bottom in preparation. As Jeralt leaped off himself, landing on the saddle of his steed, Daemon whinnied on his hind legs, Jeralt spun around his lance before grasping it in his right hand as his horse landed, making chase towards the remainder of the bandits, his band of mercs following close behind.

* * *

"Come on Edelgard, I wasn't _that_ violent, was I?" Dimitri wondered, surprised by her choice of words.

"The blood from his _face_ splattered onto his _legs_." Edelgard emphasised in response.

Claude rose his hand. "Blood has a sense of gravity too, you know?" He offered.

Edelgard turned to the Sovereign Duke. "When the bandit was already lying on his back?"

Though he rose a hand at first, it dropped down just as fast. "Alright, fair enough."

At the sound of heavy footsteps, the three turned to see Byleth on the move, rushing towards a nearby tree near a slight decline. The three lords followed close behind.

"What would our next move be?" Edelgard requested.

Byleth turned to the three, pointing to the girl. "You're with me; you focus on both offensive and defensive techniques like I do, so we'll be after their leader and his top units in the main clearing up ahead." He then turned to the boys. "You two will clear out the larger group to the west." He pointed to the blonde." From as far as I can tell, you fight your opponents with an almost entirely offensive style, no holds barred. You'll breach their group wide open while you offer ranged cover from behind." He finished by pointing to...now that he had a closer look, he was fairly certain the ash brown-haired one _was_ Almyran, not just looking the part.

Claude flicked an arrow through his fingers like a magician with a loose coin. "Fine by me." He grinned.

Dimitri tapped his lance's hilt into the dirt. "We best move out now." He offered, Claude nodding in agreement as the two quietly moved towards the dozen or so bandits uphill.

As the two saw them off, they turned back to one another. "I must once again thank you and your father's company for assisting us on such short notice," Edelgard smiled. "We might be returning highly injured if at all were you not here to help us."

Byleth just gave a small nod. "It is my job." He replied, not too much for talking to most. He barely enjoyed talking strategies as is, so anything more just seemed excessive to him.

After a couple more seconds of the Adrestian smiling a bit more, the two turned to the smaller group of bandits up ahead, their leader looking around rather hastily. He was likely ready for their assault; they needed to tread carefully.

* * *

The same bandit from before glanced at her shaking leader. "You scared, boss?"

Kostas stopped shaking immediately before calmly turning around to his subordinate. "Lia."

She raised an eyebrow, sword on her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"You don't seriously believe I'm scared, do you?" He wondered. "Terrified out of my mind, quaking in my boots, the cold breath of death blowing on the hairs on my neck…" He gave a chuckle. "You don't think that's _really_ happening, do ya?"

Lia crossed her arms. "I mean, yeah," She reaffirmed. "I do."

Kostas stared at her with a single gaping eye, something he often did in shock or anger. It was soon replaced with a dark, hearty laughter. "GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" It rumbled through the clearing in light echoes, fading as did Kostas' laughter. "Nah, not at all! Not in the least! I'm _just_ bullheaded enough to charge in and get myse- **OF COURSE I'M TERRIFIED, DUMBASS!**"

The moment his outburst occured, Kostas' large iron axe had sunk into the dirt besides Lia, who's eyebrows barely raised beyond what they had already, the head honcho standing directly over her.

"Lia, listen to me," He jabbed his index finger into her forehead. "The three political powers of gods know yonder have us on their heads, _we_ have a bunch of mercs on _our_ heads, and considering what happened the _last time_ we ran into the 'bounty hunter' archetype back in Bergliez territory, we barely escaped with our balls intact!"

Lia rolled her eyes. "Imagine having balls-"

"_SHUT._" Kostas demanded, shoving his finger further into Lia's forehead. When he was certain she wasn't gonna start again, he continued. "Like I said, we barely escaped once, and now because we procrastinated in the middle of nowhere for a bounty we never wanted, odds are we _won't_ pull it out of our asses again! _Why would I not be shitting my pants in sheer fucking terror right now?_"

"Because it's both unethical and a distraction from the main goal." Lia immediately pointed out.

Kostas immediately reached for his axe to chop the woman's bloody head off...only to droop from sheer depression and lazily lift it back up from the chop in the earth. "Woman, I swear to the gods, if you weren't the brains and reason in our shithole of a group, I'd've beheaded you a dozen times by now."

Lia offered an almost mocking thumbs up for his confession. "You're too kind." She muttered.

Kostas glared at her before turning back around to keep an eye out on the mercs likely to off his head. "Anyway, you seen him anywhere?" He asked.

Lia pointed to the larger group westwards. "He's decided to lead the rest of the gang." She replied.

"Of _course_ he did!"

"...after you ordered him to keep an eye on the lot of them."

"OF _COURSE_ I DID!"


	5. Pressure

DATE: MAY 17th, 2020 (17/5/20)

* * *

To the west of Edelgard and the 'demon' merc, Claude and Dimitri had begun to make their way towards the larger group of bandits that lay suspiciously close to the trees surrounding the houses of...Remire, was it?

"We must hurry, Claude," Dimiri insisted for what seemed to be the hundredth time by now (it was the third). "If we do not catch up with them soon, they may very well lay an assault on the outskirts of the village!"

"And what, fall right into their line of sight and get swallowed by the swarm?" Claude challenged. "Yeah, I don't think so. Besides, they passed away from those houses a minute ago."

Dimitri growled to himself. "I am not willing to risk the lives of innocent folk on a frenatic hope so backhandedly."

"And sacrifice yourself instead, your _princeliness_?"

To Claude's dismay, the Faerghan nodded. "If it provides safety to those who cannot defend oneself, then so be it."

All he could do was sigh. "Moron…" He groaned.

Dimitri turned his head. "Beg pardon?"

"Moron." Claude clarified.

Dimitri appeared rather confused at the word. "How-" He cut himself off as he began to hear noises. As he listened closer, he realised for once that they weren't the ones howling in his mind.

"'Sup?"

Dimitri quickly dashed to a large rock and squatted on his knees, lance still in a horizontal grip. Claude followed behind, though his movements were far more lax given the circumstances.

"They're right over there." Dimitri informed. "And they're...singing?"

Claude smirked. "Bullshit." He quickly peeked his head over the rock. He _had_ to see this.

* * *

"My friends, I stand before you to tell a truth most dire;"

The rest of the boys followed suit. "There lurks a traitor in our midst who hath invoked the Captain's ire!"

In order to keep in time, he had to hold back a hearty bark. "He don't deserve no mercy; we ought to strike him down with Thunder,"

"But I am not an evil man, so let's fuck around with the little blunder!"

He couldn't help himself that time. "HEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What a beautiful night to get pissed with the boys!"

And yet the boys were singing behind him the whole time. "We'll tie that scoundrel to a rope, and throw him overboard-"

"Stop right there!" The whole group stopped and turned to see a blonde man in some weird uniform with blue. Whoever he was, he and his spear seemed angry.

The middle man, pale as his own underwear, offered a sharp grin. "And what brings you to this fine field?" He asked, an accent sharp in cockney, yet gritty and flemmy to the very rumble of his laugh.

Dimitri did not hold up, however. "Your leader has chased me and my acquaintances all the way from our camp to this innocent village. With everyone having been brought to safety, we will now fight back and deal with your band accordingly."

The pale man shook his head, wagging a finger. "Ah, too formal, too formal. Pretty disgusting, mate." He chastised. He reached into his robe to pull out another glass of beer. "Just speak like a normal person, yeah? Like _this_. Like I'm doing; it's not that 'ard, is it?"

Dimitri was at a loss of words. "I-I...uh…"

Claude had surrendered being the turret in favour of laughing his ass of. "WOW," He called out, leaning a hand on the rock. "'Too formal' he says!"

The strange man quickly started snapping his fingers. "OH, right right right right. Ol' Kos said fuck up anybody in the way of those three kids, yeah? Heh, to thi-" He cut himself off and narrowed his eyes towards Dimitri, leaning extremely far forward with a hand over his forehead. His eyes slowly widened. "OH. Well, go figure!"

Dimitri, having brought his attention away from the previous comment, glared at the pale man before him. Those robes seemed to be that of a mage's. Was this man professed in Reason?

"It seems you are aware of our identities." Dimitri deciphered. "On that note, who exactly are you?"

The man threw his head back and downright _hollered_. "HEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!" He took another swig of his beer, leaving nothing but air inside. "Name's Spyro, you better remember it!"

Dimitri seemed relatively unaffected by the mage's behaviour. "Why would I remember the name of a dead bandit I never knew?"

All Spyro did was smirk, almost lackadaisically. "Dying is harder than ya think, mate." He held his free hand out, a Fire beginning to cast within. "Killing? Not so much." Once an adequate size, the bandit lobbed the fireball straight towards Dimitri, who held his lance ahead in defence.

Suddenly, an arrow flew from above him towards the fireball, the head barely scraping the left of the fireball. As the arrow passed, the blaze slightly shifted to Dimitri's left, barely scraping past his shoulder cape with only a couple dead embers landing.

He turned around to see Claude in a stance with his bow, arm cocked back from a release.

"Now now, your princeliness, you can't just defend a magic attack and pray it doesn't hurt." He chastised, though his smile gave away his tease. "Besides, if I didn't nock one out for you, who could've guessed what'd happen to that pretty face of yours…"

Identifying the jest from a mile away, Dimitri offered a small smile. "I suppose you have a point. Thank you, Claude."

"Great, now it's got gay." Ahead of them, Spyro just groaned at the sight before him. _Disgustin'_. "Now are we daring or dancing or what?"

Hearing screaming from beside him, Dimitri turned to see a lone bandit charging towards him, sword in hand. Catching the ruffian raising his sword, he swiped his lance left, knocking the sword out of their hand, before swiping back right again straight across the face, causing the bandit to lose a couple teeth. Dimitri finished the counterassault with a deft vertical swipe, leaving the man's chest bleeding and sent flying upwards.

Claude chuckled. "It's your call, dude." He replied, spinning another arrow between his fingers.

* * *

Edelgard carefully peered past the thick tree she was hiding behind, noting the bandits' grotty leader, his likely right-hand lady, as well as a few other ruffians making up the core of the bandits.

"There they are…" She muttered, Byleth nodding from behind. She turned towards him. "Are you ready?"

Byleth raised an eyebrow. "Should I not be asking that of you?"

Edelgard released a soft giggle. "I thank you for the concern, but I am more than capable of this."

With a simple nod, Byleth drew out his own sword and moved from behind the tree ready to engage, Edelgard following closely behind.

* * *

Lia turned to her boss. "Hey, Kos."

Kostas made sure he groaned as audibly as possible. "What now?!"

"Yeah, quick question: have we thought about backing off from this job yet?" She offered. "You know, _not_ dying?"

Kostas lowered his axe and sighed. "Lia, you can't be a thief if you're afraid of dyin'. Most of 'em turn to being thieves to make sure they _don't_ die from poverty and oppression and shit; fearing it defeats the purpose. That's just brigandism 101!"

All Lia did was shrug. "I mean, I don't see the point of fighting a losing battle here is all." She replied.

"Look, even if I _did_ want to back off from chasing down the three literally most important people in Fódlan, do you really think we have a choice?" He shot back. "That masked midget basically has our necks in his hands. We don't die, we die."

Lia pointed ahead of her boss. "Well, now seems like a good time to die." She remarked.

Kostas turned back to find both the Adrestian noble with snow white hair from before, as well as a, to be frank, rather dull-looking man with dark blue hair and a bunch of dark, lightly covering armor. Who the hell was this?

"Your end lies here!" The noble declared. "Stand down now, or we-"

"Oi, you with the blank stare!" Kostas demanded, completely ignoring Edelgard's speech. "Who the fuck are you?!"

All Byleth did in response was draw his sword, holding it to his chest in an icepick grip.

Similar to his cronies (not that he'd ever know), that was enough to piss Kostas off. "Don't you play the silent game on me!" He hollered, charging forward with his axe. Close behind was Lia and the five other bandits in the core.

Though the subordinates passed ahead of their boss, it barely did them any good. With a quick sidestep and a kick to the lower ribs in retaliation, Byleth managed to quench all but one of the assault, Edelgard covering the other's sword swing with a parry from her axe, a left-backhand, and a chop of her axe to the thief's side, dead as the wind.

She quickly found herself face to face with another thief, a woman with a sword, barely blocking the attack with her axe.

The woman in question raised her sword back over her shoulder. "Look, can you please die as soon as possible? I'm already tired as is."

Edelgard pulled herself back up from the block, axe to her side. "Then allow me to put you down and save yourself the trouble." She offered, though her face expressed clear annoyance.

All the thief did was shrug. "Nah, I can take care of myself, thanks." She quickly ran in towards Edelgard, ready to get another hit in.

Knowing she was faster than she let on, Edelgard kept a close eye on the red outline across the ground. However, that was already proving to be a challenge. Awful fast, wasn't she?

She barely turned around quick enough to see the thief launch off of the nearby tree from earlier, sword stretched out. Holding her axe vertically, her right hand supporting the wood behind the cleaver, the iron weapons clashed, sparks flying from side to side.

Fortunately for Edelgard, it seemed the thief was almost all speed and velocity, as pushing her back off onto the ground took little to no effort.

"Weak." The Adrestian snorted.

The thief chuckled. "Doesn't matter when you can't do anything about it." She quickly made yet another dash in, sword at the ready.

* * *

With a powerful downward swing, Byleth drew blood from the scruffy leader of the ruffians, retreating as quickly as he approached.

With a gash of his teeth and a low grunt, Kostas growled. "Dammit," He cursed. "The hell are you so fast for?"

This question left Byleth...confused. "I don't understand." He replied.

"How the fuck are you so quick?!" Kostas repeated. "Shouldn't a ton o' stiff armour make you immobile or somethin'?"

Byleth's eyelids went up slightly, processing the bandit's statement. He moved his right arm in various movements, pointing to it with his left hand. "It's malleable." He explained...well, moreso stated.

Kostas couldn't explain it, but the direct explanation with the almost unmoving face made him absolutely _furious_. The guy was basically mocking him! What the actual fuck!?

With power born from sheer fury, he charged forward to the bastard just staring at his armour, flexing to himself. What the hell was he even doing?!

Noticing the brigand was charging towards him, Byleth stopped his newfound curiosity of his flexible armour and turned his sword to his right side. As the criminal brought down his axe, he quickly brought up his own sword, locking the two together. He quickly delivered a kick to the gut to knock the thief back, following up with a spin and a harsh backhanded sword swipe across the thief's chest; a Combat Art he had learned a year ago from his father: **Wrath Strike**.

"Hmm." Byleth huffed as he carefully retreated back. He may be strong, but there was a good chance his opponent wasn't dead just yet.

* * *

As it turned out, blocking this woman's attacks was more tedious than she calculated. Her name...Lia, wasn't it? Credit where it was due, she'd make a great assassin if not a thief.

Honestly, while not worn out, Edelgard would admit she might very well be if she kept this up. She had been forced onto the defensive for a majority of the encounter between the two, barely getting a swing or two in before Lia immediately approached again. The two had slowly moved back off of the clearing near the trees, where Edelgard could at least _breathe_. Thought it's barely five seconds later before she's blocking swing after swing...She needed to find an opening somewhere...but how?! She was moving too fast for it to be even visible!

Neither the thief nor the princess realised they were moving back into the plains.

* * *

Furious how the hell the emotionless demon managed to block him so easily, the very moment Kostas opened his eyes, he lurched his body up and forward, back onto his feet. When he looked forward, he noticed the Adrestrian princess was currently being pushed back by Lia, her attention occupied. He might as well get one of them while he could, right?

Swinging his axe down, he made a mad charge towards Edelgard, who was still blocking hit after hit from Lia. Her sides of her axe were beginning to wear rather drastically; any more and the head would fall off the stick.

"Hehe."

When she noticed Lia's eyes shift slightly to her right, as well as that slight chuckle, she quickly glimpsed back to see the bandit's leader charging right towards her. She could barely gasp before he was right above her.

Suddenly, Byleth was in between them, his back to Kostas.

"YOU'LL DIE!"

And the world _stopped_.


	6. So you Decided to Kill Yourself

DATE: MAY 31st, 2020 (31/5/20)

* * *

...where was the pain?

If he recalled correctly, he noticed the thieves' leader Kostas (that and 'Kos' were what his subordinates kept shouting, if he recalled correctly) charging straight towards the Imperial princess, already occupied with that other nimble woman, raising his axe to cleave straight into her back. He had charged right into the fray and exposed his own back to prevent Kostas from striking the princess, more than likely killing himself in the process.

So where was the excruciating pain from an iron axe being dropped straight into the back?

Or...had the strike killed him on the spot? Had he lost enough blood from that one blow that he had immediately been slaughtered right then and there?

Then...hold on, how was he processing this if he was dead? Was this the afterlife? It was dark...and surprisingly littered with a green afterglow. The floor was made of stone, he could tell that much. There also seemed to be a stupidly tall altar right nearby-

Wait a fucking minute.

"What. The hell. WAS THAT?!" He jolted back from the sudden voice in this dark, dank future beyond the living realm. He turned his attention to the top of the altar where he saw some cranky little- "Are you trying to kill us?! Does your life mean that little to you? Well, that must just tell _countless_ stories about my own!" You gotta be fucking kidding…

The young girl with green hair lazily dropped back into her tall-as-all-hell stone throne, heaving a massive sigh. Probably exhausted from her massive outburst. "Look, it's fine, alright?" She eventually relented. "Seeing as you don't value your own life very highly, protecting yourself during the last minute just seems to be out of the question, now doesn't it?"

Byleth was at a loss of what to say. For one thing, this girl wasn't just a single repetitive event in his dreams for a fucking _decade_. On the other hand, when he finally finds her not on the same feedback loop, she's yelling at him for doing things his way. The fucking nerve.

The girl giggled, jumping to her feet with a clap of her hands. "_Well_, seeing as you are but a rock in an ocean, I suppose it should fall on me to be your new guide, yes?" She asked rhetorically. She took a small bow. "I am Sothis, though I am also known as 'The Beginning'."

He knew he died; he was the one who showed his back to an iron _axe_. He lost his life fair and square. He should be walking through the next world, or at the very least drifting through the endless void of death itself. Why the fuck was he here?

...at least he learned the young girl's name. Could that be seen as a plus? Could that even be considered a _compromise_?

"Hmmm...Sothis..." Meanwhile, Sothis was speaking to herself back on the altar, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. "Yes, Sothis...That is my...my name…" She sat back down on the teal stone. "And I was called...'The Beginning'...? When was I called that? _Who_ called me that?" Her wonders were barely spoken above a whisper.

Below her, Byleth was confused. The ghost in his head...had amnesia? How does a spirit connected to a host have amnesia? Should it not be the other way around? He knew nothing of necromancy and the like, mind you, but it made the most sense in contrast, no doubt.

And…'The Beginning'? "What the hell are you going on about?" He asked her.

Sothis jumped slightly, shaken out of her thoughts. She stood back up. "I could not figure out my own name, Sothis. Strangely, it only just came up now sporadically…" She held her head into her hand. "Odd…"

There was no way. She _had_ to be bullshiting. Ten years of the same question…

She looked back to Byleth, who's expression seemed that of disappointment...and anger? "That look...do you think of me little more than a child? A mere child who had forgotten her own name?!"

Byleth's face now contained nothing but sheer apathy. "You've yet to prove otherwise."

Now Sothis was pissed off. "Hold your tongue! That 'child' saved your damn life!" She shot back. "What does that make you?!"

Byleth's eyes narrowed. "_Pissed off_."

Sothis's eyes widened. "Excuse you?!"

Byleth began walking to the stairs of the altar. "Ten years." He muttered. He began ascending the stairs. "Ten _fucking_ years, I've tried getting whatever kind of good night's sleep a merc can get, only to find myself watching a massive war before being stuck with _you_, over and over again!" He was over halfway up the stairs, Sothis instinctually backing away towards the throne. "Every single time, it's 'Who are you anyway?' and 'Under which moon were you brought to this world?' And 'It's almost time to begin…'. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME!"

When he got to the top of the throne, Sothis did not expect him to throw his right arm out, pegging her by the throat to the stone monument. She began choking for air, trying to pry his armored arm from her throat as he lifted her higher and higher up the stone.

"Either you magically remembered something at the absolute _perfect_ opportunity for some omnipotent author's convenience, OR, you _know_ who you are, you _know_ who I am, and you _know_ how and why you've been bullshitting my one time of peace for _TEN FUCKING YEARS!_"

With a tighter grip on her neck, Sothis' eyes widened, followed by a loud croak of a scream and a blinding light emerging from her. The blast of pure light energy had blown Byleth away from Sothis, who had stabbed and grinded his sword across the top of the altar to halt his momentum. Ahead of him, Sothis was on her hands and knees, gasping for air and coughing once or twice.

When he finally stopped grinding towards the edge of the altar, he walked back forward to the girl. If this was limbo, so be it, but he was _not_ going to let her torment him for eternity.

Sothis finally managed to get herself back on her feet, though barely. She was still hands on knees trying to breathe. She looked up to notice Byleth marching back towards her. She had no idea _how_ he managed to harm her so, but it most certainly did happen.

She held up her right arm, palm facing him. "Hold," She croaked, her throat not quite repaired from the strangling from earlier. "_Please_…" She coughed a couple times from the sharp tinge that came with speaking.

Byleth came to a stop directly in front of her, placing his hands on his sword, of which was standing between his grip and the ground below, similar to a practice done by Kingdom soldiers, as well as a couple Adrestian statues in Enbarr.

Noting he wasn't moving for a few seconds, Sothis took that as a positive acknowledgement. Though she was back on her feet, she still rubbed her throat a bit. It was sore both inside from the squeezing as well as the outside from the material of his gauntlets/gloves. It wouldn't do much good, but what else could she do?

"Okay…" She spoke slowly, both from the ever-present pain in addition to his rather terrifying anger point. "I am being completely honest when I say I do not know why you are as angry as you are now." She took a single step back. When Byleth didn't budge, she took a second. "I have only met you once, being no more than an hour and a half ago when you were sleeping."

Byleth closed his eyes. "Bullshit." He growled.

"It is the truth!" She repeated. A bit louder than she had hoped, she winced and rubbed her throat again. "I am being as honest as I can here; I asked of your identity, what you were, and your date of birth. Nothing more."

"Thousands of times."

"!..." Rather than raise her voice again, she tried a different approach. "Seeing our conversation so far, I have high doubts you will buy into it, but I seem to have amnesia." When Byleth did nothing but raise his right hand a little bit and waved to her direction, she continued. "I do not know as to how I had forgotten, but all I know is of my appearance, obviously, a single night where I encountered you, my name and an alias associated with me by somebody, the latter two of which I had just been reminded when you practically committed suicide."

She was slightly relieved when he pulled his sword back up and sheathed in once more, though his cranky look had not been put away.

"Not a single night," He corrected. "I've been questioned by you every night for the past ten years of my life. All the same questions, all the same answers, all the more annoying each time it happens."

Sothis' head dropped. As brutal as he had been, she...honestly felt bad. "I cannot necessarily apologise, as I do not recall anything, but I will offer my sympathy for whatever may have happened."

Byleth sighed. "It is not much, but it will do for now."

Sothis nodded. "That is all I ask."

_Trying_ to put that aside, Byleth looked to the void around him. "So this is the afterlife…" He muttered. "Dull."

Sothis appeared...rather offended. "What- no!" Her throat still hurt, but nowhere near as much as before. "I don't know what this place is either, but you are most certainly _not_ dead."

Byleth turned back to her. "And how do you know this?"

"Because _I_ am not dead!"

"Yes you are."

"WHAT?!"

"Are you not a ghost?"

Sothis was openly seething, trying not to keep responding to his accusations. "No, I am not a ghost," She reaffirmed. "I have merely stopped time and brought your mental presence here. Would I not have done so, you'd be long dead."

Byleth raised an eyebrow, confused. "I'm _not_ dead?" He wondered.

Not hearing what she wanted to hear, Sothis crossed her arms with a glare directed to Byleth. "Hm. You know, for having your life saved by some 'ghost', you sound _mighty_ ungrateful right now."

"I am."

How was _that_ his answer? And why did it come out so quickly? "You _what_?!"

Byleth turned his body back to Sothis. "Nobody wants to die," He explained. "All people wish to live their best with what they have and what they can do. _However_, once somebody dies, it's a good sign that it was as far as they were meant to go, be it lured and betrayed by another, or making a foolish mistake. Like my own."

'I'm glad this is in my head,' Byleth noted to himself. He didn't like talking much to people he didn't know, so having this be his subconscious made it easier.

He turned to his right, walking towards the side of the altar. "I had noticed that the bandits' leader, which I recall them calling him Kostas, was making a beeline towards the Imperial princess, who was already being occupied by the other head woman, not too unlike an assassin. I went to defend the princess, but in a foolish rush, I defended her from Kostas with the epicentre of my back, rather than the edge of my sword. I may despise how I threw my life away like that, but it was my own impulse, not anybody else's. I died fair and square."

Sothis marched up to the mercenary, growling. "Stupid sellsword!" She began punching Byleth repeatedly, though as expected from her frame it seemed to do nothing to him. "Moronic mortal! Incomprehensible buffon! IMPONDERABLE DIPSHIT!"

With a swift punch of his own, Byleth sent Sothis sliding back onto the floor, the young girl groaning as she tried moving again.

"I have no idea as to how you managed to stop time, but you can resume it now;" Byleth continued. "I'm ready to die."

With those words, Sothis suddenly found the strength to push herself back up. "HEY!" She roared. "What about me?!"

Byleth turned his eyes back to Sothis. "What about you?"

Sothis marched back up to him. "In case you haven't realised, my life seems to be bound to yours. If you die, _I die_." With the last two words, she jabbed him in the ribs.

Byleth turned back to her once more. "This is my body, and as such, my life." He replied. He placed an index finger onto her green head. "That seems to be your problem."

"_MY_ problem?!" Sothis gasped, slapping his hand away. "And what of you?! Do you truly wish to just...die? Just like that?"

Byleth shook his head. "No. However, I will recite that it was my fault that I died, having thrown myself into the course of his axe. Should I meet my end, I will accept."

Sothis' eye was twitching. "You truly are selfish enough to involve me in this before claiming no responsibility of your own?! How dare you!"

Byleth didn't flinch. "I am no necromancer, nor am I well acquainted with magic. You involved yourself; I'm willing to bet you forget how like _everything else_."

Beyond just twitching, Sothis was violently shaking everywhere. "You...I...die...ARGH!" In a tantrum, she stomped back to her throne, flopping back into the stone as her body slowly slid further down until she was almost lying down. "So you decided to kill yourself, huh?" She groaned. "Just like that…"

Byleth nodded. "And what will you do about it, seeing as you wish to stop that so badly?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm, something he wasn't quite good at. "Stop Kostas directly? End the world? Turn back time? Kill me yourself and seperate?" He began making his way towards the stairs, wishing to occupy his time before his inevitable death occurred.

Sothis' eyes shot wide open, the girl making a mad dash to the Ashen Demon.

"WAIT!" She cried. Byleth stopped on the third step. "Wait, what did you just say?"

Byleth raised an eyebrow, but complied anyway. "You do not seem ready to die as I. so I had assumed you wanted to prevent-"

"Yes, yes, I know, and I do!" She cut him off. "What was the last one you said?"

"…" Byleth put a hand to his chin, thinking. "You kill me and sepera-"

"NO!" She cried again. "The one before that?"

Byleth looked down. What was she talk- "Turn back time?"

Sothis smiled as his words began to click to her. "OF COURSE!" She exclaimed. "I need to turn back the hands of time!"

"...The what of whomst?"

As Sothis held her arm out with an open palm, a bright yellow circle began to form, rotating clockwise with a multitude of symbols, likely from a language long lost to history. Though the most notable feature was the large symbol in the centre of the magic circle; a symmetrical emblem of what looked like wings bursting apart from a butterfly, not too unlike a roaring fire. Actually, wasn't there a symbol atop the throne similar to this?

"Yes...I think we can pull this off." Sothis muttered, smiling, turning her hand as the circle followed suit.

Byleth was incredibly confused right now. "What are you doing?"

Sothis turned behind to Byleth, still smiling. "It is as you said, I can turn back time and we can both survive!"

As soon as Byleth heard that, he immediately grabbed Sothis' arm. "_No._" This, in turn, cut off the magic circle, slowing back down to a standstill beyond the outermost manuscript. It looked like it could go out at any time now.

Sothis glared at Byleth, tugging her arm away from Byleth, though neither did any good. "WHAT IN THE TEN HELLS DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!"

Byleth shook his head. "I will not cheat death like this." He replied. "If for another, perhaps, but not for myself. I sent myself to die, and I earned my place in the afterlife."

Sothis sighed. "You're not going to let that go are you." She muttered. As Byleth slowly released her hand, she gestured to the magic circle with the emblem of fire. "Listen, this isn't just to help me and you, okay? You saw how much that princess was struggling with that woman, did you not? Wasn't it the reason you threw yourself into Kostas' path in the first place?" Byleth looked like he wanted to _pout_ of all things. He almost tried looking away, though he maintained his focus. "Let's just say that I reluctantly agreed and released time again, the axe driving into your back and likely killing you on the spot. What would happen to the others? Despite you stopping Kostas for a brief moment, likely needing to pull the axe back out from your corpse, there's still that other thief who was already driving the princess to her limits with offensive prowess. Even if you did stop one alternate death, it wouldn't stop her original one. And what about the rest of your men? Or perhaps the other two lords? Those boys went after just as much of the bandits as you did." She smiled. "If we go back in time with the aforementioned knowledge of these events, you can find an alternate to help the princess survive, with the energy to spare to help the other lords, not to mention your own mercenary company?"

_Now_ Byleth was looking down and away. He shook his head. "I still don't like this…"

Sothis grabbed his arm with both hands. "Look, I get it, alright?" She spoke. "As much as I disagree with such a bullheaded ideal, I understand your view here. You've accepted that from a rash decision that this is where your life comes to an end." She shook the arm. "But it doesn't have to be like that! If you can get past that mindset, you can help others survive their own tragedies beyond your own! Take your selfishness and turn it into selflessness!"

Byleth groaned, a hand wiping down his face. He still gave no answer.

Sothis let go of his arm, instead holding his hand. "I'll make a promise, alright?" She offered. "I'll turn back time here, making sure everyone survives." Byleth sighed. "We're linked, as you've figured out by now. If we ever need to turn back time once more, given how uncomfortable you are cheating your own death, I won't do so again without your full consent. How does that sound?"

Byleth looked away again. He _really_ didn't want to do this. It just...didn't feel right to him. Though she had a point; he does this, and everyone else could live. Hell, if anybody but him were here, they'd likely take the opportunity in a heartbeat.

He sighed, turning back to meet Sothis in the eye, Since she was on the same stair as him, he had to look down. "Fine." Dear goddess, it hurt him to say that. "We'll turn back time."

Sothis grinned ear to ear, squeezing his hand. "Great!" She turned back to the circle, using her left hand this time, seeing as her right was holding a certain moron's. Once more, the circle began to spin clockwise and counterclockwise, the symbol in the centre glowing brighter. "Although I don't like how you treated me earlier, this is a good start."

"You do not own me." Byleth responded curtly. "You attempt to abuse me, I will respond tenfold."

Sothis shrugged. "Fair enough." She turned back to the circle, squeezing his hand slightly harder. "Now, you who bares the flames within, sail through time's eternal sands, find the answers that you may seek." She turned to Byleth again, smirking a bit. "And try not to get yourself killed this time." She winked.

Byleth nodded, holding the young girl's hand tighter himself. He almost wanted to smile like the other mercenaries did, but he...didn't quite know how. Oh well, this should work for now-

* * *

A sudden surge of vertigo encompassed Byleth.

The world around him was a deep shade of blue. He couldn't move. All he _could_ do was watch as the world around him went backwards in a flash. _Exactly as he had done before._

* * *

Furious how the hell the emotionless demon managed to block him so easily, the very moment Kostas opened his eyes, he lurched his body up and forward, back onto his feet. When he looked forward, he noticed the Adrestrian princess was currently being pushed back by Lia, her attention occupied. He might as well get one of them while he could, right?

Swinging his axe down, he made a mad charge towards Edelgard, who was still blocking hit after hit from Lia. Her sides of her axe were beginning to wear rather drastically; any more and the head would fall off the stick.

"Hehe-"

The thief was suddenly cut off with a boot to the face, sending her flying a good 20 metres before crashing into a tree.

Edelgard turned to her saviour, only to find Byleth glaring ahead of him with his sword drawn in both hands. She followed his line of sight to find the lead bandit chasing right towards them, pulling back his axe for a final swing.

"YOU'LL DIE!"

...only for his strike to be easily parried by Byleth, who'd brought his sword down and back up to match Kostas' swing. The mercenary followed the stumbling bandit, punching him with his sword still in hand, jabbing backhandedly with the sword's hilt, before finally moving back for a strong upward swing. As Byleth brought himself back, a bright golden symbol appeared behind him before he brought his weapon forward into a powerful upward slash.

"Owoooaaahhh!" The slash sent Kostas flying back to his last few cohorts, His axe following beside him as it dug into the dirt nearby.

Byleth positioned himself back up from the attack, spinning the sword in his right hand as he lowered his head and placed his enclosed left across his chest, closing his eyes. Behind him, Edelgard watched him in awe. Not only had he saved her life from that assasin in front of her, but he even saved her from their leader who she hadn't even noticed, having been occupied already.

And yet, here he still persisted with a somehow stronger stoicism than her own. Was that the mercenary, or was that _him_?

She _needed_ to recruit him. If she could somehow get him to help the Empire-

"Hey! Over here!" Her thoughts broke at a certain duke's shout, her and Byleth turning to see Dimitri and Claude running towards them. Aside from a small gash on Dimitri's cheek and a couple bruises each, they seemed alive enough.

* * *

**Okay, so something on the side here; I opened a Discord server for me and my mates a year and a half ago. Nothing special, just a small get-around to talk shit and share our stories. I got curious and offered to see if I should open the place up to other people, so after asking if they're alright with it, I'm going to be sharing a link that'll send you straight to the Brig, our server, if you want to join in on our madness. Since this website doesn't allow links, just use the regular invite url and add the bottom code at the end.**

**If you do end up coming through, I just ask that you treat everyone here with respect, namely my mates. They're the best people I know, and I care for them greatly. Thanks.**

discord .gg/rbV8zYF


	7. I am Me

DATE: JANUARY 1ST, 2021 (1/1/21)

* * *

"_Gah!" Dimitri grunted, landing on his back from the impact of the fireball. He quickly brought himself back up, giving his lance a quick rub at the cinders so that it wouldn't burn and splinter more than it would already._

"_Hey, come on Dimitri, you can't just stand like a deer in the limelight like that!" Claude patted patted the Faerghan's back. "What good's a piece of long, thin wood against a ball of literal fire?"_

_Dimitri reluctantly nodded after a few seconds. "True. I suppose-" He quickly ducked another fireball as the two began to close the distance between them and Spyro's gang. "-suppose that finding smoked lion on the menu would be rather uncouth, let alone before the year even begins. I apologise."_

_Claude fired another arrow at one of the other thieves ahead, the poor bastard weilding an axe far too big for his fit, before raising an eyebrow to the crown prince. "Did you seriously write a paragraph for an apology to me on the fly?" He asked, chuckling to himself. "No need to overblow things, your highness. Only apologise on your deathbed, yeah?"_

_Dimitri jabbed the blunt back of his lance into an oncoming swordsman, nailing his gut, before spinning around himself and his lance with a battle cry to cut through the thief._

_He turned back to Claude. "I suppose that's fair. Though I can't help but feel that isn't enough. Like I'm lying to you. To _myself_."_

_Claude ducked under a loose jab from one of the few lance-wielders opposing them, quickly nocking and firing an arrow into the poor girl's knee, quickly following up her release of pain and anguish with a spinning back kick into the side of her head, knocking her out bleeding under a tree._

"_Bah, don't think about it too hard!" He laughed. "There's obviously some random exceptions, but everything has them, right? Nobody's perfect."_

_Dimitri's eyes dulled a bit in colour at that last part. "Don't I know that."_

"_You talking shit, Dimitri?"_

"_I-no? I just-"_

_At the sound of screams and movement from their side, they noticed the bulk of the leftover thieves running back up north-northwest from where they came._

_They heard a laugh from in front of them. "Well, that's our cue to cut the line!" Spyro declared, turning to the five/six thieves left. "Pack it up, boys, we're done here." He then made a surprisingly fast break towards the rest of the thieves, the others following suit._

_As he noticed the prince try to make for a sprint, Claude grabbed his shoulder. "No need."_

_Dimitri turned back with a look of disbelief. "Claude, they're getting away! And they're within arms reach to stop that from happening!"_

_Claude shook his head. "Again, no need. We find them again, we shove the stick up their cracks. But we get there when we get there."_

"Today_."_

"Tonight_." Claude corrected. "But it's as the old saying goes; 'here's not here'."_

"_What...where are you from again?"_

"_Oh my, would you look at the time, it almost _is_ today!" Claude moved his finger from the horizon to the back of Dimitri's collar, dragging him back to the other two._

"_I have legs too, Claude."  
_

"_Citation needed."_

* * *

Edelgard shook her head, facepalming. "I swear, sometimes you two are just a pair of idiots with a single brain for rent."

Claude raised an eyebrow. "Bold of you to assume we're the only ones within that circle, princess." He remarked.

Dimitri just seemed confused. "What circle?"

"Besides, you're the one holding an axe almost as heavy as her ego against an assassin by all but title."

"..." Edelgard let that phrase process for a bit. "'Almost as heavy as my ego'?" She repeated. "Question."

"Oh, now you're questioning yourself?" Claude feigned shock, tutting in disappointment. "If _this_ is who's going to govern the Adrestian Empire and their legacy-"

"Is your lack of self-awareness some sort of unspoken medical condition, or are you truly trying to project so fiercely to do nothing more than poorly save face?"

"PFFFTHAHAHAHAHA" Claude just started hollering. "D-Did you hear that Dimitri?!" He seemed to be on the brink of passing out. "She-*wheeze*-she t-thinks she knows my real f-face! Hahaha!"

The prince was now only more confused. "While I am concerned for your currently appalling mental state," He offered. "I am truly confused as to what you're talking about." He turned to Edelgard. "Would it not be more appropriate to focus on the battle itself and how we can learn from it?"

Edelgard nodded. "Well see I _would_," She replied. "But as per a certain Sovereign Duke in our midst, I confess I am far too infuriated to make any comment about that."

Dimitri crossed his arms. "While I'm not all too supportive of Claude's behaviour on the matter," Said Leiscter was calming himself down from his spurr of joy. "I must agree somewhat. Going on the defensive with an axe against someone with a sword and such agility was a dangerous risk."

"What, like you defending a _fireball_ with thin af _wood_?"

Dimitri turned back to Claude from the latter's response, nodding. "Indeed. It was a fight-or-flight reaction that I didn't quite fully process, which is something I will have to prioritise in my oncoming training."

Edelgard decided to join in. "And what of you, Claude?" She requested. "While I admit most of your combat knowledge has a solid foundation, do you really believe trying to anger or provoke your allies is a smart idea?"

Claude stretched his arms onto the back of his head. "Bah, what's wrong with having a good time in the face of danger, princess?"

"The fact that they may become so enraged with your behaviour that they may very well turn on you just to make the voiced stop."

"See, that seems like a personal problem, Edelgard. I'm just here for the joyride before our inevitable demise." He shook his head. "I'm still certain I got the worst of the initial conflict back at our camp."

The only thing Edelgard could do is just stand there with a look of admonishment on her features. "Why? Because you ran off when they had found us?"

"Ah, bububububu," Claude cut her off. "I didn't just 'run away', princess, now that would just be plain old rude. I made a _strategic retreat_, thank you very much." She just looked angrier whilst Dimitri's face was dangerously plain. "Should everything have gone to plan, we could have evaded a majority of the bandits and picked off the others like flies on a horse. But instead, you had to follow me into Remire and ruin _everything_. You two clowns just caused every single bandit to follow suit all the way down the mountain."

Dimitri's face seemed to be nothing more than an expression-machine's default product, especially considering the bullshit he heard from the young Reigan, but he somehow didn't break, by some magical force of nature.

"So _that_'s why you made a break for the decline." He concurred. "I thought you were merely playing the role of a decoy for everybody there."

Edelgard shook her head. "Dimitri, don't tell me you've been caught into his trap." She chastised. "Your leadership will be deficient should you not be able to tell between truth and deceit."

Dimitri simply chuckled at Edelgard's words. "I cannot even take part in humour without appearing dumb, can I?" He wondered aloud. "Besides, your rule will be just as lacking should you hold no trust at all. Nobody can make it through this cruel world alone."

Claude perked up. "Well, maybe except for this guy."

The other two lords followed Claude's direction to find that a certain mercenary was still with them, the whole time. Even though she was with him the whole time before the other two lords came back, Edelgard was just as shocked as Dimitri was.

They both smiled at the sight of the mercenary. "Perhaps so." Dimitri agreed. "Your movements were calculated and swift. I'd almost argue captivating."

Edelgard nodded. "Indeed. I was honestly enamoured with how well you had dealt with the majority of the bandits." She agreed. "Direct to the point, no guard let up, efficiently put down, no hesitation whatsoever."

"And you looked hella good doing it!" Claude added. "One moment you cut a guy clean across the chest, the next you throw it sky high, _then_ you beat the absolute shit out of the guy, before proceeding to just catch the sword and plunge it into his chest like it's the head of some lore-lost dragon. And you don't even blink _ONCE_." Claude's eyes were a bit brighter than before, seemingly entranced by Byleth's ability, though they were still rather shallow in contrast to the other two lords. "Like, you're the textbook definition of a vigilante protagonist straight out of an epic!"

Dimitri nodded, smile even brighter. "Indeed," He agreed. "Yet you are not egotistical, you aren't bragging about how well you do the job, and you worry about everyone else involved within the mission. One's abilities and mannerisms like yours are few and far between."

"For these reasons, please allow me to recruit you into the ranks of the Adrestian Empire." Edelgard cut off the prince. "You see, I'm not just any student at the academy, I am also the Adres-"

"Edelgard, please do not cut me off; allow me to at least concur my own request." Dimitri interrupted in return. "Similarly, I wish you to join me and my allies within the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Times are hard, lord and commoner alike, and with exceptional skills and abilities like yours, I feel that a difference can truly be made after all these years."

Claude chuckled. "You know, for being your royal highnesses, you aren't all too good in the fields of 'half decent negotiations'." He remarked. "See, _I_ would want to form a nice bond of friendship and trust with my acquaintances and allies _before_ I ask them for IOUs and various favours."

"You are all leaders."

The three turned to the direction of the voice in shock, only to find it was where Byleth was standing. It was concentrated and hollow...yet soft-spoken. Did he not talk that much?

Edelgard was the first to snap herself out of shock, only to be put back into it. "Oh, it seems we have forgotten to introduce ourselves." She realised. "To answer your question, yes, I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, ninth daughter and princess-in-waiting of the Adrestian Empire."

Dimitri bowed, having shook himself out during Edelgard's introductions. "I am Dimitri Alexandre Blayddid, only son to the crown of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. It's an honour to meet you."

Claude snapped his fingers into a thumbs up. "Claude von Reigan, Sovereign Duke of the Leicester Alliance. Good to meet ya, B."

Byleth thought that he should bow given that he was a commoner in front of the three central powers of Fódlan, but at the same time he didn't quite want to. Or really, it didn't feel like he should. It was odd.

"_Indeed. One would immediately be on a single knee in the face of a lord, and yet there is that hesitance. Perhaps it's because they're already taken to you?"_

Byleth's eyes immediately widened, almost physically flinching.

"_...what? Do you seriously not recognise my voice? Even after what literally _just_ happened not even a half hour ago?!"_

Byleth just stood there, hoping the lords in front of him weren't getting annoyed at his constant silence. '...no?' He tried answering through his own thoughts.

"_..."_ It felt like the voice wanted to say something, but didn't until it did. _"Let me put it like this: I saved your life, much to your reluctance, which is why you are here now being praised by three of the most important people on the continent."_

Byleth thought back for a moment. He'd heard of that scenario before. Didn't it have a name or someth-

'...Sothis?'

"_Indeed! That is my name. 'The Beginning', some may say."_

Byleth's face grew irritable. 'Fuck off.'

"_EXCUSE YOU?! I- Did you _not_ j-"_

"Byleth Eisner." Byleth's expression neutralised, giving a light bow to the lords before him.

"_I SWEAR TO THE GODDESS, DON'T YOU IGNORE ME!"_

"Hmm…" Edelgard thought. "Byleth Eisner…" She muttered aloud. "Ah! You must be the son of the Blade Breaker, Jeralt Eisner."

Said merc was behind them, currently trying to convince some poor old man in Warrior's garb to piss off, not wanting anything to do with what he was selling. The man mentioned something about a monastery, to which Jeralt audibly groaned.

"Sir Jeralt Reus Eisner. The former Captain of the holy Knights of Seiros, oft praised as the strongest man who ever lived. Did I miss anything?" Edelgard finished her earlier statement.

Knights of...what? "Who?" Byleth asked, confused.

This one off-comment managed to shock every one of the lords present for some reason. These knights...were they important?

After a couple seconds, Edelgard spoke up. "You...you don't know of the Knights of Seiros? The strongest and most famed knighthood in Fódlan?"

Claude smirked. "If that's true...this just got FAR more interesting."

Dimitri turned to the Leicester. "Claude, I have a sizable doubt that Byleth has not heard of the Knights of Seiros." He countered, shaking his head. "They're practically the law force of Fódlan."

"...I...haven't." Byleth slowly replied. Nope. Did _not_ like speaking aloud, no sir. "I'm actually just learning Jeralt was a Captain of...something."

Edelgard leered into Byleth's eyes; she didn't buy it for a damn second. All Byleth did was stare back. No flinching, no challenging, no off-comment about her being 'oh so very scary queen of ice', no...anything. And yet, his look still told the picture Byleth didn't seem to even have.

"You're serious." She muttered, a bit surprised. "I guess such an explanation would be a fascinating subject of gossip."

"Hell yeah! I'd love to bend your ear as we travel back." Claude added. Definitely the kind of guy to get as much information at once as he could.

All Byleth actually processed was the word 'gossip'.

'Please no…' He thought to himself.

"_Please _YES!_" _The same voice cried.

Byleth was shocked once more.

"_Not even two minutes and you're already forgotten me? For shame!"_ Sothis damned.

'Who's Shane?' Byleth asked.

"_No, you dolt of a statue! _Shame!_ I said shame!"_

'What am I shaming you for?'

"I'M _SHAMING _**YOU**_, YOU BOILED PIßWASSER! WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?!"_

'I'm currently surrounded by three political figures I've never met in my life and they seem to be imprinted on me. Please reverse time and stop that.'

"_Do you have any idea what kind of power that even gives you?! You now have favour of three of the most important people in the land, those with enough power to grant you your heart's desire for a lifetime! Even if I did let you reverse time, which I _WON'T_, why would you let an opportunity like this go?"_

"Oh yeah, B. Question." The two turned their attention to Claude, who was staring right into Byleth's soul once more. "I'm curious; we all want you to help us out, yeah? But we haven't even asked you about your own feelings." He smirked, crossing his arms. "Tell us, where does your allegiance lie?"

Byleth could practically feel Sothis's hand shaking his shoulder. Considering she was probably a spirit, he wouldn't be surprised if she actually was. _"See? Even though you have just met them through a rushed job because of them, even when they seem to hold heritage and home dear, they allow you to choose!"_ She exclaimed. She was practically leaning on his shoulder now. _"Come now, don't keep them waiting!"_

He had no idea what she was talking about, let alone the three lords.

"...I'm sorry?"

"_You're joking, right?"_

Dimitri, having pinpointed Byleth's confusion, decided to explain to him. "I believe Claude is talking about our region of birth, such as the Empire, Kingdom and Alliance. I confess I also bear some minor curiosity as to your answer."

His response was met with a nod from Edelgard. "I agree. There may have been a region you had taken interest in, such as the bustling markets of Enbarr, the sea breathing trading coasts of Deirdru, even the regal northern outstretches of Fhirdiad. Surely, you remember one place of particular importance to you?"

"...no?" Byleth was honestly unsure himself. He barely remembered anything of his past life. Not only was it a blur anyway, he just didn't care. Was the past nothing more than a prelude to the present before him? That wasn't even something Jeralt taught him; his father could barely remember either of their ages, let alone what the hell they did or even ate the other day. "I...didn't know that meant anything to people." He confessed.

"Well, 'home is where the heart is', as the saying goes." Edelgard replied.

Dimitri seemed to have an epiphany. "Ah, of course! You and your father lead a mercenary group, don't you?" He asked. "I suppose such routine movement throughout the continent would result in no particular allegiance for any one nationality."

Byleth nodded, the most emotion he'd shown yet. "Yes," He replied before turning to Edelgard. "I suppose the closest I have to a home is Remire. I see it as too far out of the Empire to consider any of us an Imperialist."

The princess nodded. "I suppose that's fair." She agreed. "Not only is it hardly within commanding reach of the southern government, but it is practically on the fine line between itself, the Oghma Mountains, and Garreg Mach Monastery."

He had heard Claude mention the place once a couple minutes ago, but didn't know what exactly that was. "Where is that?"

"HAHAHA!" The three turned to see Jeralt and some of his mercenaries coming back through, along with the old man from before and some of his own soldiers. "Garreg Mach Monastery, the prestigious locale of the renowned Officer's Academy and the home base of the Central Church of Seiros! It's due Northeast of here, further to the sunrise from the mountain range."

Byleth gave another nod. "Thank you."

The jolly man bowed. "Of course. Happy to be of service!" He replied before walking back off...only to walk right back. "Wait a moment! Aren't you the Captain's son?!"

"..." Byleth gave no answer.

"Geh…" He turned to the groan from beside him, only to find his father walking towards him. "He's talking about me, kid."

"_And you've already forgotten about how Edelgard mentioned he was the Captain of some knights mere moments ago. Pathetic!"_

"Oh?" The man wondered. "Did you not know of your father's legacy as the pinnacle of the Knights of Seiros?"

Byleth turned back to Edelgard. "Recently." He said.

The knight just laughed. "How interesting! I'd have thought Jeralt's history would be something he cherished!" Only Byleth noticed the Blade Breaker cringe at the words. Whatever it was, it was probably he hadn't told him shit.

"OH! But where are MY manners!" He realised. "My name is Alois Ragneld; Knight of Seiros and teacher at the Officer's Academy!"

Byleth gave a small bow. "Byleth Eisner."

"Ha!" Alois laughed again. He seemed to like doing that. "'Eisner'! Yep, you're no doubt the Captain's kid, even though you two look nothing alike!"

Jeralt turned to Alois. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, _Captain_," Claude jumped in. "Even though he's just about as strong as you, I can barely see a hint of you on his person. That's like wyvern's balls on a nightingale."

All that made Jeralt do was leer at the Leicester. "You stay quiet, kid." He threatened.

Claude put his head into his head. "Oh, how terrifying! Let me think about my mortality for a moment…" His obviously false frown turned to a cheeky grin. "Nah, I don't think I will."

Jeralt just groaned. "I said it once, I'll say it again; I'm getting too old for this horseshit." All that comment caused was Claude to snicker harder.

"Alright, you three," Alois, noticing his old Captain's stress, decided to cut things short. "We've been here around thirsty bandits and harmless commoners for long enough. Time to head back to the monastery!" He declared, marching with his soldiers and a reluctant Jeralt northwest of the village.

"Come on, kid!"

"You heard the man, By!"

"Let's climb the third mountain this moon, goddammit!"

"Anybody got some more rum to spare tonight?"

"Byleth, you placid sack of shit, don't make us deadlift you again!"

"SHE'LL BE COMING 'ROUND THE MOUNTAIN WHEN SHE COOOOOMES!"

As Dimitri beside her was speechless and Claude was practically wheezing, she just stared and tried to be more vocal than the prince beside her rather than also being shocked solent. "I-I guess it makes a b-bit of sense. T-They are m-mercenaries…" For someone as strong as Byleth had presented, him being treated as just another merc was _greatly_ disorienting.

Besides her, Dimitri was slowly walking after everyone, struggling to speak Fódlaneese after being absolutely flabbergasted.

"SHE'LL BE RIDIN' SIX WHITE HORSES WHEN SHE COOOOOMES!" Even trying to still stop himself from dying laughing, Claude had decided to mend himself into the colour-coded chaos he yearned for.

And behind everyone was Byleth.

"_You absolute idiot."_ Sothis berated for what, the third time now? _"You just blew away the opportunity of a lifetime! No, _three_ of them! _AT THE SAME TIME!_ They held out their hands to you and you just looked at them as if you'd never seen a hand in your life! They offered companionship to you, to their own royalty, and you reject them for no reason at all! What kind of excuse could you have for something so blatantly stupid as that?!"_

Byleth was tempted to not even give her the satisfaction of an answer again, but decided to ponder a bit on the question. Why _would_ one look royalty in the eye, receive an offer of grandeur, and tell them to outright fuck off? Why would anyone do that? Why would _he_ do that?!

...he.

HE.

'Edelgard is Adrestian." He replied. 'Dimitri is Faerghan. Claude is a Leicester.'

"_Yes, yes, everyone with eyes and ears can tell, child. What of it?"_

'I am me.'

"_And that means _what_ exactly?"_

It may have seemed silly, but Byleth turned his eyes behind him, trying to look towards Sothis. 'I am none of those things. I come from nowhere. I do not live under the same customs as those you lavish. _I am not them_. I am but only myself.'

"_...okay, but why just that? Why just _you?_" She questioned in return. "With your displayed abilities in tactics, swordfighting and melee combat, you really seem to be underselling yourself. You can be so much more. Others already see you as more than those things!"_

'I'm still me. It's all I have, no matter what value that may hold.'

And he followed after everyone else.

"_You do realise self-loathing isn't all too good for your mental health, right?"_

* * *

**Sorry about the hold up, mate. As it turns out, despite giving anough free time to cream oneself over, COVID completely demotivated me writing shit all year. I actually just started this chapter on the 30th of December, which seeing as it's 5am AEDT rn is less than 2 days ago. No telling if I'll keep going immediately, but it's a start. Good fucking lord it sucks being burned out for 7 fucking months oh my god.**

**Happy New Year, by the way!**


End file.
